SDIV El Juego Chapter 17 Part 2

Cursed Hills
Zone IV


The shaman stood amidst the carnage, he was the last of his kind. No warning of his had ever been listened to, the runes never lied. All they had wanted to do was fight, rut, eat and fight some more.

He had been away on his regular pilgrimage, to consult the runes and to meditate, but look now. A hissing Ambryn appeared and he raised his staff, a bolt of blue energy flashing out and crisping the aimless beast.

The Tauran had done this, he could tell. Well, he and his Masters would pay, he would see to that personally. His invocation was cast in a harsh, guttural language and he called upon his Gods for their aid.

A cone of blue light arced upwards, expanding until it reached some hidden barrier, where it flattened, rolling in waves across the night sky. Cackling evilly, the shaman swung the staff around his head, finally speaking a single word.

They would come, he knew, it was impossible for them to evade the summoning, and when they did, he could begin.

*

Multi-faceted eyes reflected the light shining eerily from above. Their owner stopped tearing the flesh from his vanquished enemy’s body and stared. His brash caw, split the tomb-like silence and with a flap of his leathern wings he sprang aloft.

All around him, others took to the sky, slow wing beats increasing rapidly as they felt the mystic pull of the shaman’s words. They heard death on the wind and gladly answered its call.

Cemetary Plain
Zone III

Burns dragged Kam to the floor, his soldier’s instincts kicking in. Subconsciously the roar of fighter engines triggered an immediate response, long before the distinctive snarl reached his ears.

“What?”

“Just get the fuck down,” snapped Burns, rolling behind cover and looking for a target.

Cornelius heard them too and his rage transferred from the beast below him to the unwelcome disturbance. Plasma bolts impacted the earth in a stitching pattern as the two craft dived into the attack. Flames which had been prepared for the cremation of the broken monster, once more roared into violent life, reaching greedily upwards from Cornelius’ palms. Disdainfully he flung out one arm, a heated ball of fire arcing up to meet the first of Shan’s messengers of death.

The Knight had thrown away all decorum and scrambled for cover. Hot plasma melted the earth beneath his flying feet and an ungentlemanly cry of terror floated through the air.